


the chrono-impaired armin

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Alpennia Series - Heather Rose Jones
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Time Traveler's Wife Fusion, F/F, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Barbara sometimes stumbles through time and space.





	the chrono-impaired armin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngstyChaosMagicUser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstyChaosMagicUser/gifts).



The first time the baron is visited by Barbara is before she is his. She is with her mother in debtors’ prison, and he is still trying to figure the whole matter out, when a woman comes striding down the stairs towards him, wearing his own shirt and pants but no shoes.

She doesn’t have many of his features, but she has enough.

“What year is it?” she demands. He tells her, and she goes a little pale.

He has a different armin then, a young man who is not comfortable with this intruder. He tells the armin to stand down. Barbara sits down right next to him. She says, “I haven’t spoken to you in years.”

“Oh?”

“I’m Barbara. I suppose you haven’t met me yet. You raised me.” She smiles, and it’s not completely happy. “…this is odd.”

“So I raise you.” He cocks his head. “To be a cross-dresser who sits with her legs open?”

“Yes.”

He interrogates her, but she is evasive on details about the far future, as evasive as he has always been when visiting his past selves. It has been a long time since he last travelled, and he thinks the gift, or curse, has withered with age, but he remembers how it is to be on unfamiliar soil. Or too familiar soil, as the case may be.

That his daughter will be a traveler ought to worry him—it is a troubling thing, to have no control over one’s own time stream. But there is a hint of smugness in his heart; the girl will be like _him_. And he knows he will have to buy her back, no matter the price.

* * *

 

The first time Barbara stumbles in time it only lasts an hour or so. She finds herself in an unknown household—she doesn’t even recognize the street out the windows. Downstairs she hears the murmur of voices, none familiar. She is in a bedroom. She is naked.

She is very young but the baron, in his caprice, has already taught her certain things, and she knows how to hide and how to be very quiet. She steals a much too large shirt from a drawer and climbs under the bed, and tells herself she will wait until the house is dark and quiet and then she will sneak out and find her way home. But an hour later the pendulum swings again and she is sitting at the table with the baron, who has finished his meal and is quietly drinking tea.

He laughs at her bewilderment. “Where did you go, then?”

Since he does not seem surprised, she tells it all frankly.

He hmphs when she is done. “So it begins. …that is very likely an important place, Barbara,” he warns her. “You will probably end up there again.”

She bites her lip. Twice this week she’s gotten in trouble for boldness. “May I ask a question, Mesner?”

“You may.”

“What…what was that? You seem to know…”

He laughs. That is his mood for the evening, a rough kind of amusement. “An affliction particular to your family. Chrono-impairment, some have called it… though few know about it. You will find yourself stranded in time and space at times, and then return unexpectedly. I was wondering when it would first manifest. Well, don’t worry.” He steeples his hands. “It will all be taken care of.”

His idea of “taking care of” the chrono-impairment is not to stop it from happening—he tells her nothing can do that, neither science nor any mystery her family has ever tried. (He still does not tell her who her family is, even when she points out they might be able to help.) Rather, he trains her on how to deal with any trouble she may run into. She early learns to hide, to make herself scarce, to break into and out of buildings, to locate clothing as quickly as possible, and, of course, to fight.

She’s unexpectedly good at the fighting part. Sometimes it is useful when she is visiting the future or the past or unknown parts. It turns out to be more useful in the present, dealing with Estefen Chazillen. The baron is amused by her skill. He tells her he’s decided what he’ll make of her; he’s been pondering it for years. He says she’ll make a good armin.

She’s not sure how good of an armin she’ll be when she might disappear at any moment—even at a very important moment—but she agrees. What else can she do?

* * *

 

Margerit Sovitre comes to visit the house when she is only fifteen. She is brought to the parlor, where the baron is playing Solitaire and Barbara is carefully watching.

When her eyes light on Barbara, they positively glow. Barbara is not sure what that means, or whether it can be good—she knows it means she’s met this woman, and that must even be why she’s here, but… there is a heavy weight of expectation here, and it makes her antsy.

Margerit is not the usual kind of person to show up around her, saying they’ve met before. The last two were a fighter named Marken who said her future self had saved her life, and Jeanne de Cherdillac, who is…another matter. But Margerit looks very ordinary, besides which, she has a connection to the baron, not to Barbara. And when she at last speaks, she tells the baron they must speak without Barbara present.

No, Barbara doesn’t like any of it.

But Margerit Sovitre leaves after a short conversation, and she does not come back except for once in a great while. The baron takes to inviting her over on his birthday, and on Barbara’s birthday, but he doesn’t insist Barbara talk to her, no matter how much she casts eyes at Barbara. So Barbara is wary, but she keeps her distance, and she doesn’t worry herself too much over it.

* * *

 

When she meets an older Margerit, their lives are almost on the point of colliding already, though she doesn’t know it yet. She is living in Rotenek with the baron; soon she will kill a man for him, soon they will have to return to his manor. But for now the city is bustling with a thousand little intrigues, Barbara is proud and efficient at the baron’s shoulder, and life is good.

When she meets an older Margerit, she travels only in time, not in place. She is at church when she stumbles, and finds herself at a ceremony that is far better attended. Fortunately she has stumbled at the _back_ of the church—she runs downstairs and finds the spare robe of a sister to use for modesty. It’s stealing but when she disappears again, it will be left behind, so it all evens out. Maybe it will even make its way back to its owner.

As she heads upstairs again, prepared to make for the streets and for one of her typical hiding spots in Rotenek, to figure out the year and how to proceed, she finds Margerit at the top of the stairs waiting for her. She realizes it is Margerit quickly; her face has not changed much, though her clothes are better and her body is not quite so slim.

“Barbara,” Margerit calls out quietly. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

Barbara nods.

She steps closer, and Margerit studies her. Appraising her age, the clothes she’s stolen, perhaps other details. Such eyes are meant for reading. “Saints, you’re young.”

“Do not worry yourself with me, Maisetra,” Barbara says. “I can take care of myself.”

But when she tries to pass Margerit on the stairs, Margerit grabs her arm. She resists the urge to break the hand restraining her. Margerit says, “I know you can take care of yourself, but if you want, you can come home with us. There are plenty of clothes for you to wear, and we can get you something to eat.”

“Us?” Is Margerit married now? For some reason the idea irks Barbara; no, she knows most women do marry, and Margerit with her impoverished position will have to, but it is one thing that chills her with the passing of time…

And then she hears the voice, the most familiar voice, calling Margerit’s name. She looks up, but before she can meet her own eyes, she stumbles back again, back to a church with a quieter service where the baron is waiting for her. He drapes a cloak around her and she hurries off to the bathroom to change.

* * *

 

Margerit Sovitre first meets Barbara when she is very young. She is playing alone in the garden—careful of her gown, of course, she is a good girl—when she spots someone behind a tree. She calls out, and in return she receives a request: can she go inside and fetch some clothing, please, and not let anyone know about it? A dress would be fine; a shirt and pants would be ideal.

She should not obey such a request from a stranger, but the voice sounds kind, and not only kind but official, like it has a right to what it asks for. She gets the clothing, and no one sees her bring it out. And Barbara Lumbeirt emerges from behind the tree like a nymph.

She bows to Margerit, bows deeply. “I think we haven’t met before, Maisetra Sovitre. Have we?”

No, of course not.

She sits next to Margerit on one of the garden benches. “Well, we will meet again. But let’s start on a simple note: My name is Barbara, and I have come from another time…”

**Author's Note:**

> To AngstyChaosMagicUser: I heard you liked time travel and I heard you liked Barbara and Margerit, so I hope you like this largely plotless fic!


End file.
